


Sakura Sunset

by MsHydeStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Angst, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Break Up, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Florist Harry, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, IT specialist Louis, Kew Gardens, Lotus sex position, M/M, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Post-Break Up, Sakura (Cherry Blossoms), Sunsets, alcohol consumption, they are tested and clean, wine grenade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsHydeStylinson/pseuds/MsHydeStylinson
Summary: Harry and Louis have a tradition. Every spring they stand below hundreds of dazzling cherry blossom trees in Kew Garden, and year after year they come back to walk amongst the trees and experience that love over again.This year everything changes. Louis is offered a once in a lifetime opportunity in Silicon Valley, California.Only after Louis has left does Harry realise he made the biggest mistake of his life breaking up with Louis, and he has to live with the consequences of his actions.Four years later, Harry discovers that Louis has returned to London, and in an effort to find the closure he desperately needs, he must tell Louis the truth behind their break up so he can move on with his life.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 20
Kudos: 158
Collections: 1d Breakup Fic Fest





	Sakura Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was tough to write — from the concept to the plot to the writing process itself. Somehow, it all comes together as a fic that I am very proud of. 
> 
> But I couldn't have done it without my wonderful beta Jennie [Canadianlarrie](http://canadianlarrie.tumblr.com) Thank you for editing, helping, listening to my whining, and encouraging me all the time despite your own life being hectic lately. And not to even mention writing the smut for this fic! I could copy-paste this same text from every fic and still, I don’t have enough words to express my gratitude to you!
> 
> A special thank you goes to the mods for organizing this fic fest. 
> 
> Also, I don’t know anything about flowers. My specialty is artificial plants. Pathetic, I know... I don’t know why on Earth I chose a flower shop as a set for this fic. Despite the use of Google, there still might be mistakes and they are all just mine. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome. But when leaving constructive feedback, please, choose your words kindly.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not real, never happened, complete fiction, etc. Please do not take any of this seriously, as it is all fake. Please do not translate or repost on any other site without my permission.

  
  


“They offered me a job in Northern California,” Harry listened to Louis' prudent voice telling him while he sat at the kitchen table. “They’re arranging everything; visas, flights, flat. For both of us.”

Harry froze in his spot, staring at the sink, his lips pressed into a tight line. The empty plates laid there waiting for Harry to rinse them before putting them in the dishwasher, but his mind was whirling too fast to cooperate with his hands.

As long as Harry had known Louis, working abroad has been his biggest career aspiration and he’s worked so hard over the years to see it come to fruition. Now that it was finally happening, it should thrill Harry. If not for himself, for his partner — but all he felt was dreadful cold spreading inside him. 

He has always supported Louis; that wasn’t the issue. But if Harry was honest with himself, he had never imagined this day would actually arrive. The day they had to face a real international job offer. Immediately the words “ _what a lousy boyfriend I am”_ played loudly in his mind. Harry shook himself from his thoughts before replying.

“What did you tell them?” Harry asked, standing stock-still facing the sink. He turned the faucet on and watched as the water poured out from the tap. It hit the rim of the plate, ricocheted off, and sprayed Harry’s t-shirt, making it stick to his skin. It would have annoyed him any other time, perhaps a crass “motherfucker” would have slipped from his mouth, but now all he could focus on was Louis’ pending response.

With a waver in his tone, Louis finally spoke, “I said I’d talk to you, and then let them know.” 

“When?” 

“By the end of next week,” Louis vocalised Harry’s worst nightmare. The chair screeched against the hardwood floor, cutting the silence — or making it sound even worse. Harry wasn’t sure. With his back still turned to Louis, Harry heard him amble closer and stop when he was a mere foot away. Harry should have spun around, but his limbs seemed paralysed as he pressed his fingers against the cool stainless steel of the sink. 

“Harry, please say something,” Louis pleaded. After a moment’s hesitation, he folded his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry didn’t turn, but he didn’t escape either, letting Louis rest his head between Harry’s shoulder blades.

“I’m happy for you,” Harry whispered, tears burning his eyelids. 

“You realise I’m asking you to come with me, yeah?” Louis asked, catching Harry’s wet fingers and intertwining them. 

“Yeah, I do. Of course.” A melancholic smile crossed his lips. “I just have to think about it.”

It wasn’t an answer Louis had hoped for, Harry realised, but it was all Harry could give him now.

“Of course, love,” Louis assured him by raising up on his toes and planting a kiss on the nape of Harry’s neck. “We can talk about this whenever you’re ready.”

桜

Sakura in Kew Gardens was one of Harry’s favourite things to experience in London. They had stumbled upon the trees a few years prior, and ever since it had quickly become their yearly spring tradition. Louis always complained about it, but secretly he enjoyed it as much as Harry did. The pink cherry blossoms sketched themselves against the clear blue sky, creating a picture Harry wanted to last forever in his mind. 

This time it felt different. Everything did.

Since Louis told him his life-changing news, something had irrevocably changed. Many a sleepless night, Harry laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He imagined looking straight up at the stars above, trying to find answers from the universe about what he should do. Louis did an admirable job keeping his words and affect neutral while giving Harry the time to form his own decision. After almost seven years together, it had made him an expert in knowing what Harry needed now; space, and time to think.

The more thinking he did, the more helpless he became. 

The debate played out in his head, and he knew he was about to lose. But he couldn’t overlook certain things. And during the past week, every cell in Louis’s body language screamed how much he wanted to go. How could Harry ignore that? 

“What do you think?” Louis asked, cheek resting against Harry’s chest as they laid on the lawn one sunny evening.

“I think you should go,” Harry blurted out the thought he had been spinning around in his mind lately.

“What…?” The finger that drew figures on Harry’s tummy abruptly paused and Louis hoisted himself up to take a better look at his boyfriend. 

“I said, you should go,” Harry repeated, eyes welling up with tears. 

“What about you? You’re coming too, right?” Louis peered at him, frightened. 

“No,” Harry shook his head, blinking away the tears from his eyes. “I can’t. Mum needs me in the shop, you realise that.”

“Then I’m not going either,” Louis said in a firm tone. Harry foresaw he would react that way.

“You are,” Harry told him. His lips curved slightly, even if his eyelids burned underneath from suffocating tears. “It’s what you’ve been working towards since uni.”

“N—” 

“It is, I know it, and you know it,” Harry smiled, pressing his index finger against Louis’ lips, quieting him. “I’ve chewed this over a lot. It’s the hardest thing I have ever done, but I don’t have a choice. I can’t live with myself knowing I’m the reason for keeping you from reaching your potential. I love you too much to be that selfish.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” Louis paled. He straightened himself to a sitting position but refused to look at Harry.

“I’m not breaking up with you, I’m letting you go. I’m giving you the freedom to fulfil your dreams, even if that means I can’t be part of them,” Harry itemised his excuses. He didn’t know how to prevent his voice from trembling when every spoken word shattered his heart into thousands of painful shards, making his entire body throb in agony.

“Well, it sounds like a break up using fancy words,” Louis sniffed, jumping up and striding away. After a few metres, he spun around saying in an accusatory tone, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. To us.” 

With tears steadily rolling down his cheeks, Harry watched Louis disappear amidst the cherry blossoms. 

Sakura season would never be the same again.

桜

The following weeks were absolute torture. 

Since their visit to Kew Gardens, everything had changed and Harry knew he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. And yet, he wouldn’t change anything. Sometimes he caught Louis reading about his soon-to-be hometown, a tiny smile turning up the corners of his mouth; and in those moments he knew he’d made the right decision.

Most of the time, however, they were like two ghosts wandering aimlessly inside their flat, trying to avoid bumping into each other. If they did, they talked normally like nothing ever happened — general chatting he would do with any customer stopping by in the flower shop. All the seemingly endless conversations on whatever topic came to their minds were forever gone. During those talks, they’d fallen in love when they both were still teenagers. Ever since, Harry believed they would always be “them” — without an end date. It never occurred in his mind he could be the one to break them up.

Silently they packed Louis’ stuff into cardboard boxes marking the ones to be shipped, put in storage, or to be donated. Every closed and sealed box meant one step closer to the inevitable — the day he would walk out the door for the last time. 

“That was the last one,” Louis eventually spoke out the words Harry never wanted to hear. Apart from a few random items of clothing, toiletries and an open suitcase in the middle of the living room, everything about Louis’ presence had been stripped away. Their flat looked as if something had torn its soul to pieces, alongside Harry’s heart. 

Harry’s reply was an awkward semi-smile and an abrupt escape to the kitchen.

Their last supper together consisted of overcooked chicken, clumpy plain rice and over steamed veg. Harry could have been eating a three-star Michelin dinner and it would have tasted as bland and tasteless as this meal had.

If the last meal together had them both suffering from the beginning till the end, their last night in the flat wasn’t any better; both sleeping with their backs to each other. The emotional divide between them felt more expansive than the physical distance any ocean could ever provide.

In the morning Harry watched as Louis packed the rest of his stuff into his suitcase, closing it after a troublesome battle with the zipper. He dragged it into the small hallway. It seemed more spacious now than when Louis’ shoes had been packed up, except for one pair.

Soon that would be gone too.

Harry couldn’t watch it anymore. He had tried his best to be as stone-faced as possible since their break-up, but his self-control was relenting a few minutes too soon. Behind his tear-blurred vision, he saw Louis make his way in front of him and wiped deftly at Harry’s wet cheek with his thumb.

“Please Haz, don’t forget me,” Louis whispered.

Then he was gone.

桜

When Louis pulled the front door closed for the last time, Harry slumped down on the floor. The first silent weep turned into louder sobs until he’d been screaming his pain out like a wounded animal. All the feelings he had barricaded inside since he had told Louis in the park he should go. 

Harry had read that break-ups are akin to the grief felt from the death of a loved one. Perhaps it would have been like one for him too if his love for Louis had actually ended, or vice versa. But he was just floating at an agonisingly slow pace towards the ultimate end, the end that would hopefully give him closure instead of gnawing away at him from the inside.

They also say the first year is usually the hardest after losing a loved one. It was especially tough to face all the holidays without them. 

Harry’s summer went by in a fog. Just like most of the autumn. Despite how much his mother pushed him to take time off from work and go for a holiday during the summer, Harry refused every time. The work in their flower shop was the only thing keeping him sane. He’d rather spend his time there doing something useful than sitting in their — or now his — empty flat listening to depressing break-up songs from his vast collection of vinyl. 

Holiday or not, it didn’t make any difference. Every day was equally as horrid as the last.

That is until Christmas came.

Each year the holiday fuss began earlier than before, but it didn’t bother Harry. He loved Christmas more than any other holiday, there was no denying that. Every year in late October, Harry retrieved all the ornaments from the storage closet. He spread them all over the living room for inventory, simultaneously driving Louis mad. 

Harry carried the gigantic box from the bedroom and dropped it on the low table in front of the couch. He lifted the lid off, looked inside and saw the mess. It was then that Harry remembered. In the third week of January, Louis had become fed up with their Christmas tree still standing in the living room. While Harry had been at work, Louis had removed all the ornaments and put them away with no sense of order. Going behind his back had pissed Harry off enormously.

_Louis was the last to touch these ornaments_ , Harry thought to himself. 

He scooped up the knotted pile of silver-coloured ribbons into his arms and hugged them like a baby. He pressed his nose against them, just like he had done with Louis’ pillow for weeks after he had left, trying to get even the faintest scent with no success. The embrace of ornaments had ended up with him throwing one of the shiny red balls against the floor and watching it smash into pieces. The next day he dropped all the ornaments into a bin. It was time to start fresh.

In their family, Christmas always was a time for dual celebration. During their relationship, they never spent Christmas Day, or rarely even Christmas Eve, together. They picked a day from the calendar to have their own private early Christmas and Louis’ birthday party; with their favourite foods and desserts. On Christmas Eve Louis travelled to Doncaster to celebrate the holidays with his family, while Harry, Anne, and on occasion Gemma, toiled away in the flower shop until late at night. It had never bothered Harry. But this year, he wasn’t able to stop thinking about what it would have felt to wake up together on Christmas Day and be able to spend the entire day together. 

For the first time in years, Harry didn’t wish Louis a Happy Christmas, or even a Happy Birthday. It was fucking awful.

If Christmas time had been a struggle, it was nothing compared to Valentine’s Day. Harry bought a pink heart-shaped box of chocolates and two bottles of the shittiest red wine he could find and consumed both of them during the night. If he could have been able to hold his phone properly, or even tap the buttons, Harry would have called Louis and begged him to take him back. Thank god, that never happened. Instead, Harry woke up lying naked on the kitchen floor with a wicked hangover and even more remorse.

Things couldn’t go on this way.

桜

Valentine’s Day was a turning point in more ways than one. Harry admitted to himself that he still loved Louis, but also, he needed to live with that truth. He couldn’t cling to his past tooth and nail, especially when he had been the one who changed the course of their relationship. 

Three days later when he was strong enough to do anything but order takeout food and wash it down with an ice-cold Coke, Harry knew the time had come. 

The easiest task was to change his lock and home screen images to a few gorgeous coral-coloured peonies; a safe and neutral option. Still holding his phone, Harry opened his contacts and searched Louis’ number. Pressing the edit button and removing the ICE code in front of Louis’ name caused the back of his eyelids to sting, but he forced himself to continue. The number Harry had was his UK number and wouldn’t be usable for emergencies, anyway. This was just a necessary part of moving on with his life, he rationalised to himself. 

Harry hesitated for a long time with altering his social media. He, or Louis, hardly ever used Facebook anymore, and deactivating his own account wasn’t a big deal. Instagram, instead, was much trickier. 

Every time Louis’ post or story appeared on his feed, Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He was too curious not to look. He admitted that. Every time it terrified him he would face something he didn’t want to — a new boyfriend, for example. It had already been a year since their break-up, and Harry assumed it was just a matter of time before someone new would replace him. That very thought was the catalyst for him to tap the unfollow button faster than he could believe. Afterwards it felt like he had been untethered and was now recklessly floating towards the unknown. 

If Harry hadn’t soaked himself in red wine just a few days ago — and therefore made a promise to reduce his alcohol consumption — this would have been a perfect moment to have a drink. Or preferably, many. Instead, he took a long walk, and then afterwards Harry collected every photo of him and Louis from around the flat and buried them deep into the storage closet. 

Followed by an emotional storm that produced a river of tears.

桜

_Three years later_

“Uncle Harry, Uncle Harry!” The door of the flower shop flung open and a tiny firecracker flew inside the store screaming Harry’s name. She wrapped her arms around Harry’s legs, hugging tight.

“Well, hello Aubrey. This is a surprise!” Harry kneeled down to give his niece a gentle hug. A girl with sandy brown hair giggled joyfully, as always, when she saw Harry. Or any other person for that matter. She seemed to constantly be in a cheerful mood, even though Anne and Gemma had contrary opinions regarding her behaviour. Harry was the funny uncle who always played with her when Mum and Nana were the ones to set the boundaries. 

“Where did you leave Nana, Aubrey?” Harry peered through the wide window craning his neck, a worry knitting his brows. “She’s with you, right?”

“Of course,” the girl snickered onto her hands and pointed at the figure just passing the shop window, “Look!”

Anne pushed the door open and breathlessly scolded her granddaughter, “Don’t ever do that again, Aubrey! You can’t run here alone. There’s too much traffic outside.”

“I just wanted to see Uncle Harry,” she pouted, hazel eyes aimed at her uncle, awaiting his defense. 

“I’m in this with Nana, Aubrey. You must obey her for your own safety,” Harry told her using his serious voice. Judging by the neutral expression across her face he wasn’t sure if it was successful. 

“Okay,” she nodded anyway, restlessly tugging at Harry's sleeve. “Can I now show Rose the flowers, Uncle Harry?” She lifted her precious doll Harry had given her for her second birthday a few years ago. She immediately became attached to it, and that affection hadn't faded. 

“If you promise not to run away from Nana anymore,” Harry stared at her with a firm look.

With bright eyes, she said, and followed up with a firm “I promise.” 

“Nor anyone else,” Harry added when he realised a loophole in his claim.

“Of course,” she promised, a bit too quickly, but Harry let it go this time. He just hoped Aubrey would realise this all was for her own good.

Harry sighed and stretched his hand out, “Give me your coat, it’s humid inside. Do you remember where you wash your hands?” Harry nodded behind the counter where the small sink was located.

“Yeah, yeah.” She shoved her beanie in Harry's hand, before plopping her winter jacket to the floor. Then she rushed away leaving Harry shaking his head in amusement.

He stepped closer and pulled his mother into a warm hug. “Hi,” he smiled with an air kiss next to her cheek.

“Hi, sweetie,” Anne greeted him with a smile but rapidly returned to the subject of the incident with Aubrey. “We were a block away and she just took off,” she explained, still visibly upset, blaming herself. “I had no time to react at all.”

Harry let out a sigh. “They are so fast sometimes. But nothing bad happened,” he tried to calm down his mother.

“This time,” Anne sounded tired as she loosened the wooly scarf wrapped around her neck, then pulling it off. “What if this will become a habit, and she runs away more often? She is already so much faster than me, and if she gets a head start, I probably can’t catch her. God only knows what could happen.”

“This was probably just a one-off,” Harry soothed her. This kind of behaviour would be dangerous, there was no doubt about it, but Harry didn’t want her mum to worry about it too much beforehand. “Has Gemma mentioned anything?”

“No,” Anne shook her head as she unbuttoned her camel-coloured wool coat. “She’s already so stressed so I wouldn’t want to worry her even more.”

“She has to know,” Harry remarked softly to his mother, taking another carnation from the pile, cutting the stem to a neat 45-degree angle, and placed it into a vase. These yellow ones have always been Harry’s favourite amongst carnations; despite their symbolism for disappointment or rejection. 

Anne’s eyes followed his detailed arranging of the flowers and Harry sensed her fingers were itching to join in. “Hope we’re not disturbing you,” she said, taking a half-step back as if to remind herself it wasn’t her job anymore.

“No, not at all,” Harry assured, “I’m almost finished with these.” No doubt he had things to do every minute of his workday, and even after, but he always had time for his family too. 

“I noticed the new signage has finally arrived,” Anne said, pursing her lips. 

“Yeah, last week,” Harry raked his hair with his fingers. He hesitated for a long time with the name change but realised he had to do it. 

Anne’s Flower Shoppe didn’t only sound unappealing, but also old-fashioned. Even though his mum approved of the idea of a name change, it was still a tougher pill to swallow than she could have imagined. Especially when she had heard the new name for the first time. “What do you think about it?” Harry finally asked without daring to look at his mother.

“It’s...nice,” Anne hesitated, wincing slightly.

“Nice...?” 

Perhaps Anne heard the defensiveness in Harry's voice as she hurried to continue. “Colourful, vibrant,” she praised, but it still lacked enthusiasm, Harry noticed. “Modern.” 

“I had to do it, Mum,” Harry breathed. When she said nothing, Harry cut and inspected the last flower from the table and lifted the full vase of carnations into the floral cooler.

“I know, dear. I know. Don’t mind me. I’m just a silly old cow,” she gave a curt laugh.

“No, you are not.” Harry wrapped his arms around Anne. “You have every right to be sentimental. This was your shop for ages.”

“Yes, it _was_.” Anne raised her eyes towards his son, “But now it’s yours, and I know you’ll do what is best for it. Not so sure about the name though...” she muttered the last sentence. 

Harry had waited for the subject to come up again. “What’s wrong with the name?” he wondered tongue-in-cheek, holding his grin.

“It’s just so… obscene,” Anne winced and continued bemoaning, “And what will the customers think!?”

“We’ve received mostly positive feedback about the name,” Harry assured, which was true — not just pretty little lies to calm down his mum. Especially on social media, it had caused quite the provocation — some scornful opinions too — but Harry believed in the old adage, “All publicity is good publicity”. According to some of the comments under the posts, some of them followed the store's account only because of the name; and every new follower was a potential customer in the long run. 

“But _I’m Thorny_ ,” Anne yell-whispered the name. “Imagine how our — um… your regular customers will react.”

“Hmm… Yesterday Mrs. Bueford stopped by. When she was paying, she winked at me saying ‘Cheeky name, Harry’ and left the shop still chuckling,” Harry grinned, as he told her about their ninety-something, very spry customer. 

“Did she…?” Anne arched her pristinely shaped eyebrow.

Harry laughed cheerfully, “She really did.”

“She always had a naughty sense of humour, hasn’t she?” Anne admitted, mouth curving into an amused smile. 

“She has,” Harry nodded, grinning. 

“Look, mum,” Harry continued in a more serious tone. “I know, you don’t accept all the choices I’ve made but I’m trying my best.” 

“I know, love,” Anne smiled, looking slightly guilty about her words. “I never meant to judge you. You’re doing an excellent job with bringing the shop to this millenium.”

“You think?” Harry beamed. He was a grown man but still, on some level, he always needed to have his mother’s approval. Even though she had given it to him earlier too, it did no harm to hear it again. Still smiling, Harry walked behind the counter to collect a light brown cardboard box. He slit the shipping tape, folded it open, and picked up one of the candles, handing it to Anne.

“Look how pretty they are!” Harry rejoiced, eyes shining. “I just got a new delivery.”

“Candles?” Anne rolled a glass jar in her hand. She opened the lid and a bold vanilla flavour wafted in the air. 

“Yes, a fresh territory,” Harry said, biting at his cuticles. “We, particularly Sarah, did a lot of research and realised it would be wise to expand our merchandise to beyond just flowers. When people buy flowers, they usually want something else with it too; candles, bath bombs, chocolate. You name it.”

“Hmm—”

“We don’t have to have a huge stock of them if that’s what you’re thinking. Flowers are and will be, our primary schtick. But why not make shopping easier for customers? Now they can get everything under the same roof, or delivered straight to their home,” Harry explained, showing Anne the various wares. 

“And they all sold very well on Valentine’s day,” Harry emphasised. He had no obligation to convince Anne but still, he hoped she would give her blessing to all the changes they had made over the months.

“Nana!” Aubrey yelled near the tulip section. Now that Valentine's day and peak rose-season was over, tulips were the next ones in the queue. A shrill, demanding voice ”I need to wee!” cut Harry’s thoughts. 

”Let’s go then. You can leave Rose with Uncle Harry in the meantime,” Anne encouraged her, who kindly did what her grandmother asked. This time. Harry took the doll and arranged it in a seated position near the till. His eyes followed the pair as they disappeared into the backroom, Anne leaning lower while explaining something to Aubrey.

The official change in ownership had been much harder on Aubrey’s mum, Gemma. Even when Gemma had returned to work full-time three years ago, Anne had taken care of Aubrey ever since. 

The daycare costs for children with disabilities were ridiculously expensive, especially for a single mum like Gemma. The bastard who got her pregnant and then cowardly fled the second they found out their baby would have a lifelong disability; a rare bone marrow disorder called Diamond-Blackfan anemia. He had never paid a penny to support their daughter. If Harry were to ever cross paths with him, the dickhead had better run fast because he couldn’t guarantee the outcome. 

For a few years now, Harry had more or less taken care of the shop by himself. Anne kept the reins gripped tightly in her hands, leaving Harry between a rock and a hard place feeling he couldn’t give the shop as much as he wanted. He had planted tiny seeds into Anne’s head, but eventually, it had been Gemma who had enough of Harry’s not so subtle hints. She had invited them both over for lunch without telling either side her hidden agenda, and it had turned into the most horrific family lunch they’ve ever had. 

It took several months, and a lot of conversations and tough business negotiations for Anne to finally sell the flower shop to Harry. She had likened it to “abandoning her baby” which Harry very well understood. But when she had finally given up the shop mentally too, it had been a relief for both of them. Harry knew that it would never completely happen but nowadays Harry felt it was his flower shop, and not his mother’s.

In return, Anne was happy when she could spend time with Aubrey, no matter how hard it sometimes was. She was a lovable girl — and her only grandchild. Harry was one hundred percent sure they all made the right decision.

Speak of the devil, “Uncle Harry!” echoed around the store again. 

“Well, hello again,” Harry smiled as he turned to greet his niece. “I was just about to get some flowers from the cold room. Wonder if I can find an assistant to help me?” Harry placed a hand above his eyes and gazed around the shop pretending to look for someone.

“I can help!” Aubrey tugged at the seam of his jeans.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Harry delighted. “Shall we go then?”

Just like Harry had predicted in his mind, she had been able to concentrate on the flowers for less than fifteen minutes, but it had been enough for her to leave with merry spirits. The rest of the day Harry had made orders, planned for the upcoming weeks, particularly Easter time; the next massive flower season.

Later that afternoon, the bell above the front door chimed and Harry's forehead crinkled when he recognised the person as his assistant manager. Or more like she was his right hand. Without Sarah’s presence, Harry would be up Shit’s Creek. Even though she was still a student and only working part-time, without her tremendous help during the renovation and rebranding the shop wouldn't be what it was now. Her adamant research and weeks spent creating their new website and the online store had paid back in spades, and Harry was forever grateful for her. 

“Sarah, what are you doing here?” he curiously asked the slender brunette. 

A maroon knitted beanie had been pulled on her head and her cheeks were rosy from the chilly air outside, she stepped in and swiftly closed the door behind her, causing the bells to chime again. “I forgot my charger cable here,” she said in an apologising voice. 

“You could have called, and I would’ve brought it to you,” Harry told her, wiping at the dust from the surfaces.

“Nah, it’s not a big deal. I was nearby anyway,” she swiped her hands up and down her arms in an effort to warm up. 

“But it’s your day off,” Harry insisted. He was determined that his staff — not that there were many of them, only one part-time worker aside from Sarah, who helped mainly on the weekends — keep their days off as marked. 

“I know, I know.” Then she whispered in a conspiratorial voice, “Any news yet?” 

“No,” Harry shook his head. Suddenly his eyes brightened, and he grinned at her, “Oh, that’s the reason you came in.”

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, smirking. “But it’s such a prodigious partnership! I’m nervous.”

It was something they had worked very hard at and negotiated back and forth for weeks now; a potential trade partner in the form of an event planning company. If it worked, they would use Harry’s shop as the primary flower supplier, and it would be one hell of an advantage on an ever-tightening market. 

“They still have until the end of the month,” Harry reminded her.

“I know. The waiting is what’s killing me!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Tell me about it,” Harry huffed, throwing the reusable cleaning cloth onto the counter. “Maybe it’s a good sign. If they said no, they might have let us know already.”

“True,” Sarah admitted, sighing. “Okay, see you later, H.”

“What about your charger?” Harry yelled when the door was already closing.

“Have it,” she said, patting her shoulder bag, laughing.

Still snickering, Harry walked to the door and locked it. He had to count the till and hammer out a few minor tasks before he was ready to pack up and go home.

桜

”I still can’t believe we got the deal!” Harry quipped excitedly to Sarah at the end of the next week, god knows how many times, and hugged her once again. 

”I knew they would pick us,” Sarah said, nodding her head and caused a few tresses of hickory brown hair to fall across her forehead.

”Oh, you know now, do you?” Harry grinned, teasing her playfully. 

”Of course! We’re the best,” she said firmly, then quickly adding, ”Or, I mean you’re.”

” _We_ are,” Harry replied, emphasising the word we. ”Like I’ve told you several times before, I couldn’t do this without your help. I take care of the practical side of this store, but you’re its brain behind all the magic.”

”I do this because I love this wonderful place as much as you do,” Sarah smiled, a faint blush of delight tinting her cheeks. “You have to force me to leave this place.” 

”Thank god, for that!” Harry sighed, lifting up a long gift bag he had hidden under the counter and handed it to Sarah. ”But there’s no harm in bribing you every now and then.”

Sarah peered inside the bag and checked the label of the bottle inside, mouth opening from surprise. ”A bottle of Champagne!” she exclaimed with widened eyes. ”You shouldn’t have.”

”Nonsense,” Harry gestured with his hand. ”You can go home and enjoy the bubbles with Mitch.” 

”Not sure if he can truly appreciate the drink though,” Sarah laughed joyfully, taking another peek at the bottle before pushing it back in the bag. After meeting her boyfriend a few times, Harry assumed she was probably right. A sullen-looking Mitch holding a dainty champagne flute in his hand wasn’t the picture Harry would paint in his mind first.

”Then buy him a six-pack of beer or a box of wine, and drink the entire bottle yourself,” Harry suggested, grinning. “Leaves more for you then.”

”I might as well.” She gave a laugh, then turning his slightly worried eyes towards Harry. ”How about you? Are you going out?”

”Nah, but Gemma is coming over for dinner. Mum is taking care of Aubrey tonight,” Harry explained, checking the time on his phone placed on the counter next to him. Not long now till he could close the shop.

”Wild Saturday night then?” Sarah tilted her head studying Harry. ”I don’t mean to be intrusive, but when was the last time you’ve been on a date?”

”Couple months ago, maybe,” Harry said vaguely as he shrugged his shoulders. Dating hasn’t been his priority lately. He knew he should have said ‘after Louis’ but it sounded a tad too desperate. But the truth was, there had been nothing since Louis that could be called a relationship. He just wasn’t into them. 

A couple of years after their break-up, Harry had relented and installed the Tinder app. Sure, with his boyish looks it hadn’t been difficult to find matches but that pretty much was it; dates now and then, but usually it was just Netflix and chill. He received follow-up messages from some of them later but it didn’t feel fair to mislead someone who perhaps wanted more in the long run than a fuck-buddy or a date for an occasional dinner. 

His first date after Louis had been a huge milestone, especially emotionally, but since then the “highs” hadn’t made an appearance ever since. 

”You should go on one again soon,” Sarah nudged him slightly with her hip.

”Yeah, maybe I will,” Harry promised with a phony smile. 

”Don’t worry, H. You will find someone too. It might just happen when you least expect it, like Mitch and I,” Sarah assured Harry. 

Harry knew what it was like though; he once had Louis.

桜

Against all of Sarah’s best intentions, her talks saddened Harry more than they encouraged him to go on another nameless date again. 

Perhaps it was the realisation he would never feel the tingling sensation of being in love for the first time. Yes, it was a very pessimistic way of thinking — Harry knew that — but the years had made him come to the insight that maybe he was like a swan; meant to mate for life. 

Harry pushed his glum thoughts aside and entered Sainsbury's to get supplies for their dinner. Harry knew Gemma would love it, so it had easily sealed the deal when he had come across the recipe on Yummly.

He carefully selected the required ingredients: vegetables, zucchini, bell peppers, onions, and some carrots for the pasta and then ingredients for the salad. With lightning speed, he crossed the products off from his list and just fifteen minutes later he was already at the check-out packing his pink tote bag full of his groceries. 

They had decided Gemma would come around eight. That way she could be home to put Aubrey to bed and spared Anne the extra trouble, as well giving Harry enough time to whip everything up. The walk from the grocery store wasn’t long but Harry needed every second to calm himself down. The stress about the business deal had been worse than he had admitted to himself, and when everything was said and done it transformed into a throbbing headache. He didn’t need it now. It had been ages since he and Gemma had spent some quality sibling time together without any hurry and been able to have a quiet dinner with a few glasses of wine. 

Walking outside helped a bit but as soon as Harry got home, he took a painkiller to get the pounding between his temples to subside. He pushed the narrow kitchen window open and let the fresh air flow inside. _Get some fresh air circulating while I take a shower_ , Harry thought, as he unpacked his shopping. The items that needed cold storage were put in the fridge, the rest could wait for him on the counter until he was ready to prep them.

Harry walked into the bathroom and dropped all his clothes into the laundry basket. He waited for the water to warm up enough before stepping under the showerhead and waited for the shower to drum perfectly against his stiff muscles, relaxing them and leaving Harry to dream about a good massage. _I should book one for next week_ , he decided. 

His shoulders weren't the only thing neglected lately, Harry soon noticed. A simple touch like spreading shower gel on his body, made his dick perk up with interest. He gazed at the tiles, thinking of nothing in particular, and focused on the pleasurable friction he garnered by squeezing tighter on his cock as he lazily jerked himself to orgasm, resting his head against the wall, and letting the water wash the come off his body. 

With a relaxed smile lighting up his face, he stepped into the kitchen shortly after. The breeze of cool air felt refreshing against his shower-warm skin but after a minute of standing there in just his boxers, he closed the window. Cheerfully humming, he took the chopping board out and washed the vegetables. He was feeling notably better now; his pounding headache vanished and his mind was now filled with pleasant thoughts. Maybe the wank cured his headache, Harry thought, shaking the excess water off from the red bell pepper. 

Just as he was about to make the first cut, he realised something essential was missing from his cooking session. He quickly fixed his epic fail by opening a bottle of red wine and filling a glass with the delicious burgundy liquid. A satisfied sound soon followed as he tasted the first sip of wine he’d had in ages — it tasted divine. He skipped his way over to his phone, connected it to a nearby bluetooth speaker, and he was ready to cook.

Shaking his arse in rhythm with the streaming music, Harry chopped the veggies, placed them on a tray, and after seasoning them shoved them into the oven. Meanwhile, he prepared a simple but delicious tomato sauce and silky bechamel sauce. After that it was a simple task to layer the roasted vegetables with sheets of fresh pasta and alternated sauces and sprinkled freshly grated parmesan cheese on top. He checked the time from the microwave clock and decided to bake the lasagna straight away. It needed to rest after baking anyway, and if needed, he could always reheat it again. 

It wasn’t long after Harry had dressed into a comfortable pair of loose-fit jeans and a ‘Women are Smarter’ t-shirt before Gemma arrived a few minutes later. He hugged her warmly and waved at her to follow him inside. 

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked, stretching out a glass of red wine in Gemma’s direction. 

“Starving,” she cried out, her hand lightly resting against her belly. “I was saving my appetite all day for here. I knew you would have something decadent waiting for me.”

“Veggie lasagna,” Harry smiled, tossing the ingredients of a green salad with the dressing before placing the bowl on the table.

“Ooh, sounds yummy,” Gemma sighed, taking a sip from her glass. “Shit, this is superb too!” she moaned pleasantly. She spun the wine in the round-bellied glass and lifted it up before sniffing it. “What is it? I don’t think I have ever had this one before.”

“It’s a Barbera d’Alba. It pairs well with pasta. To be honest, I hadn’t tried it before but I agree, this is fucking delicious,” Harry praised his wine choice. “Please, sit down.” He said to Gemma as he laid the still-hot oven dish on the trivet and jabbed a large serving spoon under a pre-scored slice of lasagna. “There you are.”

“Shit, I almost forgot!” They already had the steaming food on their plates when Harry suddenly remembered the piccolo bottle of champagne he had cooling in the fridge. He jumped up to collect two flutes alongside a tiny bottle. “I thought maybe we should have glasses of bubbly too. To celebrate,” he added with a coy smile.

“Of course!” Gemma agreed immediately, then added with a slight grimace, “Now I feel a bit embarrassed that I didn’t think to bring some myself. I know this deal means so much to you.”

“Oh, no. Don’t,” Harry assured, popping the bottle open and carefully pouring it into glasses, trying to prevent it from bubbling over the rim. The bottle was tiny but there was just enough for both of them to have full glasses.

“Congrats, Harry, and cheers!” Gemma announced raising her glass, clinking their flutes together. 

“Cheers!” The champagne was cold and crisp on his tongue. Not necessarily his favourite drink, but he enjoyed a flute now and then when celebrating something. 

_There was definitely a reason for that today_ , Harry thought to himself whilst they ate. Their hard work was already paying off; the new website has garnered a lot of interest, as well as the delivery services. These all were innovations he had been thinking about for years now, but his mum had been reluctant to adopt any of those changes. She doesn’t understand how important renovations and rebranding could be for a store owner, Harry had ranted to Louis about these things ages ago around this very same table. 

Harry’s fork halted on its way to his mouth. The sudden thought of Louis raised a lump in his throat. He rarely let it happen anymore but now their conversations came so brightly into his mind; Harry gushing about his dreams, Louis smiling and encouraging him to pursue them. _He should be here now_ , Harry thought. Just then it hit him, the longing he had managed to push away into the farthest recesses of his mind. He placed the fork back on his plate to take a gulp of wine instead, trying to settle his nerves. 

“Are you all right?” Gemma asked frowning, eyes glued to Harry.

“Yeah, yeah. I just remembered something, but it’s nothing important,” Harry assured his sister, his heart still jackrabbiting wildly. “But now tell me, how are you? We haven’t talked properly for ages,” he asked to get the attention away from him.

It was a pleasant night. 

After dinner, Harry had packed a sizable portion of leftover lasagna for Gemma to take home with her, and they had moved on the couch to continue their chatting. When they had been younger and still living with their mom, many nights were spent lounging on the sofa in the upstairs study and they talked about whatever came up. It felt a lot like those good old times.

The clock was already approaching midnight when something about Gemma’s demeanor changed, “Umm—,” Gemma started, biting her lip. “I bumped into Niall a couple of days ago…”

“Oh, how is he?” Harry asked merrily. “Haven’t seen him a while. I should call him soon,” Harry continued without noticing how quiet Gemma suddenly was.

“He told me something, and I’ve been debating with myself ever since whether or not I should tell you...” she hesitated, restlessly shifting in her spot, fingers boring onto her wine glass.

“Tell me what?” Harry asked obliviously as he stood up to reach the bottle from the table to fill their glasses.

Gemma kept her eyes strictly on her hands, licking her lips. She inhaled as she closed her eyes briefly and breathed out before replying, “Louis has moved back to London.” After a moment's pause adding, “I don’t think you knew that.”

At that very moment, everything Harry had built over the last four years came crashing down. 

No, he didn’t know. 

And naturally, he wasn’t ready for it either. 

It had taken a long time for him to recover but eventually, he gave himself permission to live again. To want, feel, and even have sex with someone other than Louis. 

All it took for those plans to vanish was for Gemma to mention Louis.

In a split second, everything that he had managed to wash away was back, figuratively knocking him to the ground. 

Perhaps it was the wine, the stressful week, or the shock of the news. 

Maybe it was seeing his delicately-built house of cards collapsing in front of his eyes within seconds. 

Something broke inside him. 

A primal sound emitted from his mouth as he snatched the half-empty wine bottle from the coffee table and smashed it against the white living room wall including the wainscoting. Gemma screamed from somewhere next to him as the shards spread across the floor with a clang. Harry stared as the wine formed thin rivulets of aubergine coloured liquid began running down the wall and pooling onto the hardwood floor. He dropped to his knees, burying his face into his hands. Instantly they felt wet from the tears as they cascaded from his eyes. Soon Gemma was there too, letting Harry pour out his agony against her strong shoulder. She said nothing for a long time, just stroked his hair whispering soothing words into his ear. 

Gradually Harry’s sobs settled down and turned into tiny muffled sniffs before they died off altogether. But as soon as he gazed at his once stark white wall it now reminded him of one of Rorschach’s inkblot tests, and he was about to burst into tears again.

“I’m so sorry, Gemma. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, still in shock. “I don’t know what the hell just happened.” Harry shook his head in disbelief, horrified about his behaviour.

“No one was harmed,” she reassured but Harry saw worry written across her face even though she tried to joke lamely, “Except your poor wall.”

Harry jumped up from the floor where they had been hugging for what felt like hours but was likely minutes. Still baffled, he sauntered to his broom cupboard and pulled out a mop with a brush and a dustpan. 

“I’ll do it,” Gemma said, taking the cleaning equipment from Harry when he returned. 

“No, I—” 

“I said, I will do it!” Gemma retorted with hardened eyes.

“I’m sorry Gems,” Harry said, miserable. 

“It’s all right, H,” she assured, then pointing to a couch with her finger. “Sit there. I brought you water, drink that. We’ll talk about this later,” she commanded in a voice Harry knew all too well. 

“Okay,” he obeyed without further protesting and gulped down some water. The iciness of the water traveled down Harry’s chest and into his stomach, but it wasn’t the only thing giving him chills. 

This was something that never happened to him before. Yes, he has thrown stuff, but they had been more like his phone on the sofa, shoe, or the stupid Christmas ball against the floor — tame things — a bottle against the wall was on a completely different level and he could have ended up seriously hurting someone with it. 

He wasn’t drunk, tipsy at the most but he can’t hide his angry outbursts behind his alcohol consumption. Besides, if he could, it would be even more disturbing. Although, deep inside Harry knew what motivated his actions. Admitting Louis — after four long years — still had so much power over him that the mere knowledge of him being in the same city with Harry was enough to turn his life upside down. Again. To force him to accept that he still had feelings for him, no matter how hard he tried to shake them off.

He was undeniably still in love with Louis.

桜

The next morning Harry experienced the worst remorse he’d ever had in his entire life about the previous night. No headache, sick or any other classic symptoms of a hangover; just utter shit for brains and disgust towards himself. Usually, a long hot shower eased his mood after a heavy night of drinking, but this time it was almost the opposite. Icy water made his mind more focused and clear, and it allowed the complete horror to take shape. 

Seeing the aftermath painted down the living room wall in cruel daylight triggered the first bout of nausea, bringing him to his knees in an attempt to stave off throwing up. The pieces of glass had been cleaned up by Gemma, but the stain on the wall was a grotesque reminder of the events of the previous night. 

_Why did I react like that?_ circulated around Harry’s head repeatedly. Which begged the follow-up question: _“What if I do it again?”_

It wouldn’t if Harry had anything to say about it, yet that hadn’t helped last night either. Harry stood there for what felt like hours, distracted by the images he could make out from the outline, much like clouds meandering through the sky.

“How are you feeling?” Gemma’s sleepy voice carried over from the couch.

“Jesus Gems, you scared me!” Harry jumped, pressing a hand against his chest where it automatically flew to in reaction. “I didn’t realise you had stayed over,” Harry said, the heart rapidly beating. Although, if he had given it even a tiny thought, he should have known Gemma wouldn’t have left him alone after last night. What reason she’d given to Anne, Harry wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to know. 

“Of course, I did. Couldn’t leave you after that, could I?” she asked, dragging herself towards the bathroom, yawning and rubbing her sleep-encrusted eyes. “Want to make us some tea? Maybe we should have a little chat.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry nodded, not knowing if he was pleased or not about Gemma’s straightforward direction. 

Harry filled the kettle and flipped it on. While waiting for the water to boil, he slipped two slices of bread in the toaster to put something in their bellies for breakfast. 

“Gem,” he shouted. “Avocado, or banana and peanut butter for your toast?” 

“I’m good with either,” she yelled back. Because Harry wasn’t in a mood to make any extra effort, he chose the latter - and easier - option. When Gemma returned, he already had their tea and toast waiting for them on the living room table. 

“Thanks,” she said as Harry pushed the mug closer to her. She took it, folded her legs under her bum, and leaned back observing Harry strategically. “Guess this all has something to do with Louis then, hmm?”

“What makes you think something like that?” Harry responded slowly, allowing him more time to gather his thoughts. 

Of fucking course this was about Louis. He knew it, Gemma knew it, now most likely his neighbours knew it too. If anything larger than life ever happened to Harry, there was almost complete certainty it had something to do with a certain Louis William Tomlinson, the owner, and operator of Harry’s heart. 

Fuck.

“C’mon, H,” Gemma huffed sarcastically. “You were in an excellent mood almost all night, and the second I mentioned him, you just… exploded. Lost it completely.”

“Don’t remind me, please.” Harry closed his eyes, pressing his fingers against his skull as if trying to exorcise the demon inside his head. He inhaled deeply, with his cheeks puffed out to the max, he exhaled the air out. He popped his eyes open again. “I’m so sorry, Gemma.” 

“Don’t apologise to me, you did nothing to me. It’s you I’m worried about,” Gemma said rolling the steaming mug in her hands. She blew onto the mug, trying to cool down the liquid. Behind the brim, she cautiously asked Harry the question he struggled to find an answer to since the moment he woke up: “Do you have any idea what might have caused it?”

It.

The whole appalling situation summarised into two tiny letters. Harry hoped he could articulate his own thoughts as neatly too. Instead, he had to — once again — get his head together to vocalise his suspicion, as hard it seemed to be. 

“I really don’t,” Harry admitted, shaking his head lightly. “I wasn’t drunk last night, so I can’t blame it on the alcohol for that. I mean, we had wine but I think I had maybe two - two and a half glasses.” Harry recalled scratching his neck. “Plus the flute of champagne.”

“Yeah,” Gemma agreed, nodding. ”You didn’t seem drunk to me either. Besides, we ate the entire meal alongside drinking the wine.”

”I had thought about him earlier,” Harry confessed quietly, his gaze avoiding Gemma’s.

”Louis?” 

”No, Niall,” Harry snarled, rolling his eyes. 

”Okay, okay,” Gemma gave a dry laugh before continuing in a softer tone. ”Want to tell me about it?”

”It wasn’t much,” Harry shrugged. _But maybe it was still enough fuck up my mind_ , he thought inwardly. ”Mainly I was just remembering how I used to talk to him about my plans with the flower shop, the plans I had for it if someday it would be mine. He was always so encouraging and I thought he should have been here now to see them all come true. And then I realised he wasn’t, and probably never would be.”

“Oh, Harry.” Gemma got up, put the mug on the table, and sat next to her brother. She snaked her arm around Harry’s waist and pulled him closer pressing her head against Harry’s shoulder. There they sat — Harry now resting his cheek against Gemma’s head — silently for a long time. Words weren’t needed, it was the comfort he was seeking. Harry really didn’t know what to say, anyway.

”You can always see your doctor if you think this will bother you more, you know. Just to talk with her, if nothing else,” Gemma pointed out, squeezing his arm supportively.

”I know,” Harry let out a sigh. ”This already helped a bit just saying things aloud, you know.”

”And you can always talk to me again, never forget that,” Gemma reminded him. 

”I know. Thanks, Gems,” Harry smiled at her faintly, ”I think I need some time to wrap my head around this somehow on my own first. I need to do some soul searching, to find an explanation, and especially make sure it will never happen again.”

Like he had done once before, he had to find a way to move forward, it felt he was back at square one again. 

Shit.

桜

Even though London is quite big, Harry also understood it’s surprisingly small sometimes. Therefore it was just a matter of time when he and Louis’ worlds would collide again. None of his friends had mentioned Louis was back, and Harry had a hunch Gemma had something to do with it. In a way, it irritated him — made him feel like he was five years old and needed big sister Gemma’s protection against the cruel world — and at the same time, he felt grateful because it gave him time to adapt to the situation. 

He had forced himself to think of Louis, despite how painful it felt. The past few years he had pushed him away from his mind as much as possible hoping it would erase him from his memory as if he never even existed. He had a bold garnet reminder adorned on his living room wall that the tactic hadn’t been successful. 

So, he was desperately trying to do the opposite and accept that Louis would always be a part of his life — one way or another. Clearly, he could no longer escape it, so he had to learn to live with it. Again.

Had his intentions been successful? In theory maybe, but the practical side would need quite a lot of work before it would see the fruits of his labour. The boldest thing he had done so far has been to go through Louis’ Instagram, and that had been horrible. 

He had quickly scanned over his photos to ensure he wouldn’t run into anything too unpleasant. Louis had never been one for posting cute couple pictures when they were together; sometimes into his stories but not on his main page. In the past, Harry had been annoyed about it, but now Louis’ inclination towards it gave him immense relief. Stories he had left untouched not wanting to risk anything; seeing something he didn’t want to, or get caught for stalking. Both options felt equally upsetting. 

Louis’ Instagram had confirmed what he already knew, he very much was in London. And had been since the new year. Over two months and Harry didn’t know. It pissed him off too. There was no fucking chance Louis hadn’t met up with mutual friends during the time. 

Everyone else knew about his homecoming but him. He had seen enough and tossed his phone on the couch, changed into his running gear, and went for a long run to clear his mind. 

The result? A hot mess. 

The positive news was, he survived. 

桜

Harry had made a plan. He had mentally prepared for the day he would come face to face with Louis Tomlinson as he walked towards him on the streets of London. He waited for it to happen, and he knew exactly how to act in the event of such a situation. 

A pity it never came true.

At any point, he hadn’t considered it wouldn’t happen on some busy street. Or maybe at a random café or their mutual friend’s house, anywhere but his home territory. When the inevitable confrontation finally happened in front of his own flower shop, all his good intentions vanished into thin air. 

“Hello, Harold.” Harry heard the familiar voice behind him while he was locking the front door after an exhausting day. If the key had not already been engaged with the lock mechanism, it absolutely would have slipped from his fingers to the ground. Now the ring of keys was left hanging as Harry turned towards the direction of the voice, eyes wide from the shock that seeing him caused.

“Louis,” he croaked, mouth dry. Then it was just crickets. 

Harry’s mind went blank, and he could no longer remember what he had planned to say, or do, should he meet Louis again. 

Crickets.

On top of it, he was sweaty, untidy and tired — and couldn’t wait to get home to have a shower after scrubbing the shop for the last hour and a half. Or be anywhere else but standing in front of Louis in his dingy olive green oversized coat and hair clip trying to keep his unruly curls in some kind of control, looking absolutely his worst. Awareness of his messy look only increased the level of anxiety in his already chaotic mind. 

As the silence ensued, Harry used his time to sneak a glance at Louis. The photos of his Instagram had prepared Harry for this moment. There was nothing to his appearance that Harry wasn’t prepared for. He was just confronted by his ex who he was still in love with. 

The casual stuff. 

Shit.

Harry smiled at him awkwardly, then stiffly pointed to the keys. When his back was to Louis again, he closed his eyes briefly while trying to suck air into his lungs as inconspicuously as he possibly could. Somehow he twisted the key in the lock and even slid the same key out with trembling fingers when the only thing he could focus on was how good Louis looked.

Handsome and rugged. 

More manly than he had been prior.

And so fucking sexy with some grey strands in his hair that hadn’t been there before but increased his natural charm up a few notches.

The best thing was, his mouth wasn’t dry anymore.

However, he still had nothing to say. 

He had rehearsed what he would say but now standing face to face with Louis, he just couldn't remember any.

“I’m Thorny.” Harry stared at Louis, mouth agape until he realised he had just read the sign aloud.

“Oh,” Harry gave a nervous laugh. Then he couldn’t help but ask: “Do you like it?”

“I would expect nothing less from you,” Louis chuckled, with the same slightly raspy voice he always had. The same one that still seemed to make Harry’s knees weak and his heart flicker too fast. “But I’m not sure what Anne thinks about it.” 

“She’ll get used to it,” Harry smiled shortly, adding with a hesitation. “I’m quite sure she will.”

“Maybe she secretly loves it,” Louis grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Her puns are as bad as yours sometimes. How is she anyway?”

“Good,” Harry nodded, still staring at Louis' crinkled eyes. He could make out a few new lines that must have appeared since he left the UK, Harry noticed and then rapidly pulled his gaze away after realising what he was doing. “Umm— yeah, she’s good.”

“Glad to hear that. Give my regards to her,” Louis added with a warm smile. “It was good to see you, Harry.”

And then he disappeared, leaving Harry to wonder why he had come around in the first place. 

桜

The golden warmth of the setting April sun beamed down from the heavens, caressing Harry’s face as he lay sprawled out on the grass in Kew Gardens. He had folded his jacket under his head allowing for a more comfortable position, sunglasses sat perched on his nose protecting his closed eyes from the shimmering rays of the setting sun. The gates of the park would close in less than an hour. Harry knew he should leave soon, but he simply wasn’t ready to go yet.

Coming to the park purposely four years since his last visit here wasn’t on his to-do list. Nonetheless, after a long workday, he found himself walking towards Kew Gardens instead of going home. It was the fourth anniversary of their break-up, and if anything from the past once eluded anything, this night — once again — would be brutal. Perhaps it was for the best. 

He knew it would be in his best interest to stay away from home for as long as possible or until midnight, at the very least. Before closing the shop, Harry had guiltily texted Sarah asking if she could work an extra shift tomorrow. He didn’t feel he would be of the right mindset to go into work. Not because of a hangover; he had learned his lessons after reviving Jackson Pollack on the living room wall. Harry just wanted to crawl under his thick duvet and stay there for the next twenty-four hours. 

Or years for that matter.

Some of his friends might remind him their break-up was sole of his own volition, and therefore he had no right to complain about it but Harry couldn’t care less at that point. His decision or not, it still cut deeply. This time even more so than in previous years. He very well knew the reason for it too. 

He hadn’t seen Louis since the one and only encounter in front of _I’m Thorny_ a few weeks back, but it had done nothing to help shake him from his thoughts. His obsession to scroll through his Instagram was getting out of hand in a way that wasn’t good for his mental health. Perhaps that had been one of the reasons he subconsciously came to the park. He rationalised he could come to terms with what happened during their last visit here and finally get the closure he had always needed in order to forget Louis once and for all. 

Harry had strolled along the wide path ensconced by cherry blossom trees trying to enjoy the beautiful pink flora, but he failed miserably. Everything around him was filled with the best nature could offer during this time of year — clear blue sky, green lawns, flowers blooming in every colour of the palette. Not to mention the warm temperatures that rarely occurred this early in the year. But his melancholic mind refused to see the wonders that surrounded him. It was all monochrome shades of black and white, no brightness at all — like the dismal autumn days no one ever wanted around.

Harry let out a sigh and laced his fingers together under his neck. If today had fallen on the weekend, the park would have been packed with people. It wasn’t empty now either — there were families and tourists around — but Harry had easily found a quiet spot for himself. If it happened to be the same spot as four years ago, it wasn’t anyone else’s business but his own.

Harry was so deep in thought, he didn’t hear anyone approach until the ground next to him rustled softly. Simultaneously, his nose caught the familiar mix of cigarettes and aftershave. 

Some things never changed.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Harry announced without turning to see Louis. 

“I’m more surprised you can see me when your eyes are still closed,” Louis replied in a sassy tone.

Because telling Louis his scent alone had been enough to reveal him would render him feeling emotionally vulnerable, Harry just went with the safe option. “Just a hunch, I ‘spose,” Harry shrugged, opening his eyes and noticing Louis was lying next to him. “But you didn’t answer me.”

“Why am I here?” Louis ensured, taking a brief glance at Harry.

“Yeah.”

“It just kinda happened...” Louis muttered, staring at the darkening sky above, hands resting on his belly. He let out a brief sigh before continuing, “I was on my way home from work, and found myself sitting on the Tube going in the opposite direction,” he mused.

Yeah, Harry knew that feeling quite well. 

“That explains the suit then,” Harry realised, studying him from behind his faux Gucci shades. Louis looked gorgeous in his suit, as always. “Be careful, it might get grubby from the grass,” Harry couldn’t help but note.

“That’s why we have dry cleaners, you know,” Louis reminded him with barely a whisper, still laying in a similar position as Harry — not in a hurry to be anywhere.

For a few moments, silence fell over them. 

“Do you come here often?” Louis finally spoke, breaking the quiet.

Harry chuckled at the question that could double as a sleazy pick-up line, before answering, “No, this is the first time in four years. I wasn’t planning to come,” Harry confessed, staring at the tops of the nearby trees.

“Oh,” Louis let out a muffled sound. Then biting his lip he continued with the unsaid. “Would it also have to do with what happened exactly four years ago at this very spot?” 

“You remembered,” Harry mumbled, picking the grass with his fingers.

“How could I forget?” Louis replied, voice tight. After a pause, he asked, “How are you, Harry?” 

“Good, mmm— ’m good,” Harry assured, nodding his head, every word lacking enthusiasm. “And you...?”

“I’m good too. Yeah.” Louis sounded as convincing as Harry had just seconds earlier.

“How was San Francisco?” Harry didn’t want to know, but couldn’t prevent himself from asking. 

“Palo Alto,” Louis corrected and added curtly. “It was okay.”

“Okay…?” Something in Louis’ disregardful reply irritated Harry enormously. “Lovely to hear that…” Harry muttered between pressed lips.

“What that’s supposed to mean?” Louis turned to glare at Harry.

“Nothing. Grand plans and all, yeah...” Harry shrugged.

“Should I lie instead? Brag about how amazing everything was even though it wasn’t the case?” Louis challenged as he turned to face Harry.

“Good enough to spend almost four years there,” Harry retorted, eyes dark.

Louis stared at him for a while, then turned his gaze back towards the sky. “Didn’t have anything left to be here for either, so why not be there then? Wouldn't have changed anything.”

“Yeah, what would you possibly have had here,” Harry blurted, eyes burning.

“You tell me,” Louis said in a steely tone.

“What do I know,” Harry shrugged again, knowing the habit annoyed Louis more than anything.

“Stop fucking acting like a bloody martyr, Harry!” Louis hoisted himself to a sitting position, glaring at Harry behind his sunglasses.

“I’m not,” Harry insisted, lips pressing into a hard line.

“Oh, yeah. Of course not,” Louis huffed dryly. “Just like you never told me to go there.”

“Oi, I never forced you to go,” Harry said, pushing himself up to a sitting position too, mentally placing himself on an even playing field.

“You fucking broke up with me!” Louis yelled as he jumped up, anger hardening his face as though he was sculpted from a single block of ice. 

“No, I just told you that you should go. I _let_ you go.” 

“Are you fucking seriously telling me now — four years later, that you never broke up with me? That I have imagined all of this? The whole moving out and you should go stuff,” Louis raged, pacing on the lawn digging a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his trousers. ”You’ve got to be fookin’ kidding me,” he said behind an incredulous smile.

“No,” Harry objected with a weak tone. “But when you told me about the job offer, I knew you wanted to go.”

“I wanted _us_ to go,” Louis corrected him, lightning a cigarette and blowing the first plume of smoke into the air. Harry watched it billow around his head before being swept away by a small gust of spring air.

Harry scrunched his nose, trying to waft away the smell of cigarette smoke in the air with his hand. “Yeah, but you also knew I couldn’t just fucking leave,” Harry said, raising his voice.

“Because of your Mum and Aubrey?” 

“Obviously.”

“Well, if you had even bothered to ask me what options there were, it might have surprised you. But your first, and only solution, was to ‘Let me go’,” Louis signed the quotes in the air with his fingers.

“And you went. End of story,” Harry said, crossing his arms across his chest in a subconscious effort to protect himself from his paltry rebuttal.

“End of story…?” Louis burst into a shit-eating laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked, glaring at the man who was once the love of his life.

“You,” Louis rolled his eyes. “You’re such a fucking clown. Do you know that?”

“I’m not,” Harry insisted, pouting.

“You told me to leave, and I went.” Louis wided his hands, asking: “But now suddenly I’m the bad guy here?”

“Seemed like a pretty easy decision for you,” Harry remarked blinking, fighting against the tears.

“Easy…?” Louis repeated back to Harry, his eyes flashing with rage and something akin to heartache. Even his sunglasses weren’t able to hide it anymore. “Easy?!?”

“Felt so,” Harry shrugged, feeling miserable.

“You fucking ruined me!” Louis yelled, chest heaving powerfully. “Just like that, out of the blue after seven fucking years you just calmly said I should go and you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“I never said th—”

“No, you didn’t need to, Harry,” Louis interrupted him bluntly, pointing at Harry with his cigarette hand. “You told me to go. To another continent. Without you. It didn’t seem like an invitation to stay, did it?”

“It was your biggest dream—”

“My biggest dream was to have a family with you!” Louis roared.

“What…?” Harry finally looked up at Louis again, eyes wide, only to find he was staring back at him.

“Is that really such a massive surprise to you Harry?” Louis asked, sounding sad whilst he took a drag.

“But you never said you wanted to stay?” Harry lifted himself up, frowning.

“No, because you never gave me the chance to say it.”

“During the month and half we shared the flat afterwards?” Harry asked, seeking clarification.

”Yes, Harry. Exactly then. Ever since this damned park. You ignored me completely. A few words here and there, and then when you ran out of other ways of communicating.” 

Has it really felt like that for Louis? All he had tried to do was to keep himself in one piece without breaking down and beg Louis not to go. “You had already made up your mind,” Harry whispered miserably. 

”I had made up my mind? Me? I was never even given the chance to make a decision,” Louis’ voice rose again. “Everything was done for me on my behalf.”

“But— you wanted to go.”

“No, _you_ wanted me to go,” Louis emphasised. “So, I did.” 

Harry gulped down the lump in this throat. “You would have stayed…?” 

“Guess we’ll never know that,” Louis said, stumping his cigarette out on the sole of his shoe before turning away. 

With incredulity smattered in his tone, Harry inquired, “Are you leaving?” 

“Give me one good reason to stay.” Louis stared at him but all the words Harry wanted to say were stuck in his mouth.

“Yeah, thought so. Bye Harry.” 

Then he walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the Sakura cherry trees just as he did four years ago. The difference was, Harry got his long-awaited closure. 

He hated it.

桜

Harry lifted his head off the throw cushion in the corner of the couch he had been spread across since arriving home from the gardens. He was sure he heard a faint knock at the door, reviving him from the abyss he had sunken into. With a frown on his face, he listened but nothing was heard again. It’s possible he imagined it. With a tiny shrug, he hoisted himself to a sitting position and reached for his phone from the table to check the time — it was already way past midnight. He saw a few WhatsApp notifications on his screen, but nothing that couldn’t wait until the morning he thought to himself as he pushed himself upright.

He padded towards the kitchen to get some water to rinse the stale taste in his mouth but something about the noise was still bothering him. Without thought, he took a sharp turn to the right heading towards the front entrance. He tiptoed to the door and pressed his ear against it to increase his chance of hearing anything. After realising how stupid that felt, he peered through the peephole. It didn’t change the fact he still looked like a nosy sod but curiosity won out this time. 

At first, it was only the darkness he could make out, but then his eyes caught a shadow that made his heart skip a beat and he stepped back from the door. There definitely was someone standing on the other side and Harry had no idea what he should do about it. He dug his phone from his pocket and quickly unlocked it — just in case. His already dry mouth had turned barren as he cautiously moved back in front of the door. With another quick glance through the peephole he could discern that yes, the silhouette was still standing there, motionless. With his phone secured in his sweaty hand, Harry grabbed the handle thinking perhaps this wasn’t the smartest move after all. His heart was frantically beating, he slowly pushed the levered handle down and pulled the door ajar, all the time ready to slam it closed again if needed. 

It wasn’t though. 

When the light from the hallway illuminated the narrow paved walkway leading to the sidewalk, Harry immediately recognised the person behind the knock. Heart pounding wildly — and this time for a very different reason — he pulled the door open wide, his eyes aimed at a pair of slender shoulders he knew all too well. 

”Louis,” Harry breathed out, blinking a few times. 

”Hi, Harry,” he said, turning around. He sounded tired, and everything in his appearance only amplified that — dark coloured trackies with a loose hoodie, bed head, and weary-looking eyes. 

”What are you doing here?” 

”I couldn’t sleep.”

”Okay…” That explained why he wasn’t in the bed he seemed to have just rolled out of, but not why he was standing outside Harry’s house in the middle of the night. He wanted to ask but the fear that Louis might run away tied his tongue in a knot again.

”Went for a walk, and ended up here,” Louis confessed, staring down as the tip of his Vans drew invisible figures on the ground. ”Kinda happened. Just like with the park today. Yesterday,” he added after realising the day had already changed to the next one. 

“Just ended up here I s’pose,” Louis continued his monologue, refusing to look at Harry. “Because I needed to tell you I still love you, yeah?”

Harry stared at him, eyes wide, mouth hanging open and unable to understand a bloody word he just said. A baffled “W-what...?” was the only thing he could emit from his mouth. 

Louis laughed dryly, which quickly morphed to an uneasy wince. “Erm, it wasn’t supposed to come out that way...” he muttered but to Harry’s relief, he didn’t take his words back. At least not yet.

Harry bit his thumbnail fiercely, pensive about what the hell he should do next. ”Umm— ... It’s blimmin’ cold out here.” His entire body shivered when the chilly air snaked its way up the sleeves of his brightly coloured cardigan, reminding him they were still standing outside. In the middle of the night. Without overthinking, he blurted out, ”Get inside, yeah?” 

Louis shrugged but followed Harry, anyway. 

Harry absconded to the kitchen leaving Louis behind to toe his shoes off. He was still leaning his palms against the worktop and trying to remember how to breathe when Louis appeared at the doorway. “I’ll make us tea,” Harry informed, straightening himself and rushing to fill the kettle with fresh water. His hands trembled, but he was grateful to have something to do with them. 

“I’m surprised to see you still live in the house,” Louis commented, looking around the house he used to live in, scratching at a dent in the casing with his fingertip. The very same mark that occurred after popping a bottle of bubbly to celebrate their first night being homeowners.

_In our house you mean_ , Harry was tempted to clarify. “I love this house, where else would I have gone,” Harry said in a monotone affect instead, shrugging.

“Yeah…” Louis replied, nodding briefly. ”You did.”

Harry didn’t know how to carry on the conversation. He focused his mind on making them proper cuppas — Louis has always been high maintenance with his tea — pushing out of his head the three little words his ex had casually dropped outside.

Like an a-bomb.

And Harry laid buried underneath the rubble without realising what the hell even happened. 

Louis didn’t seem to have anything to say either. Harry heard him shuffle his feet where he was stood in place, and Harry knew it would be just a matter of time before he couldn’t stay still any longer. The thought barely had time to cross his mind when Louis did exactly that. He cautiously pushed past Harry into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding a graze. Harry appreciated it, otherwise, he would have probably done something irrevocably impulsive. Snog him, or something. It was already torturous to be in the same room with him even without touching.

Louis slowly roamed through the kitchen passway that led to the living room, all the while looking around. The furniture was still the same but Harry had changed the layout a few times over the years — still thinking the original was the best. But for obvious reasons, he had never returned it to that state. Not that the house itself wasn't a constant reminder of their past, but still. 

Louis was standing behind the sofa, arms across his chest, staring at the wall with a contemplative expression on his face. Harry saw it when he sailed past him carrying their tea, but said nothing. He placed the mugs on the coffee table and plopped on the oversized armchair. 

The question was hanging in the air. Harry also knew this could be his last chance to point out the elephant in the room, lay his cards down on the table or—

“What happened to the wall?” Louis asked, turning towards Harry. 

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Harry chose his third option — try to be a cheeky idiot. 

“I was just asking...” Louis sounded offended, turning his back to Harry again. 

This wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

“Sorry,” Harry winced. “Didn’t mean it that way.” 

What the fuck am I waiting for, Harry asked himself. YOLO, right. He had nothing to lose, anyway. “Want the truth then?”

“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice for once,” Louis huffed, sneeringly. 

Ouch. 

Maybe Harry deserved it though. “If you must know, I painted it with the remains of a wine bottle,” Harry disclosed, still feeling the shame, “the night I found out you were back in London.” He paused when the words stuck in his mouth. “Same night I admitted to myself I still loved you.”

“What…?” Louis gasped, sounding genuinely surprised when he spun around to look at Harry with wide eyes.

“Lou, I couldn’t stop loving you even if I tried,” Harry admitted, eyes aimed at the stain where the Barbera had soaked into the porous wainscotting. It wasn’t as dark as it had been initially, however it was still clearly visible. Maybe one day his plans to paint over it would arise, but so far that day was still pending. Like Louis’ answer right now.

“Okay…” Louis drawled, furrowing. Not exactly the reply Harry expected.

“That's all you have to say…?" Knowing his response to Louis’ confession had been no better, Harry couldn’t help the slight accusation slip from his mouth.

Louis pinched the bridge of his nose as he asked, “Are we back on this?” his hands propped on the jut of his hips. “Right, so, somehow — just like in the park — I’m the bad one. Again. Could you just decide what it is you want, or at least stop blaming me for your actions,” Louis shouted, eyes ablaze with anger. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said in a dejected voice. “For everything. I’m sorry that I make it sound like I blame you for my own mistakes. Our break-up, for one,” he added.

“You think our break-up was a mistake?” Louis asked, finally sitting on the sofa.

“Depends…”

Out of what could only be described as sheer exasperation Louis implored, “Depends on what, Harry?” 

“I don’t know!” Harry cried out, covering his face with his hands. “I mean I never wanted to break up with you but I felt I had to.”

“Why did you feel that way, Harry?” Louis questioned, taking the mug from the table. He stared, lips pursed, waiting for Harry to respond. When it didn't come, he put it back on the table, untouched, and pleaded. “Haz, please, talk to me. I’ve tried to understand this for the past four years, and I still don’t get it. I thought we were solid…”

“We were!”

“Then why? Tell me. Please,” Louis begged while he cradled his face in his hands.

“Because it was your dream, Lou,” Harry responded, smiling sadly. “I remember the countless times you would tell me how cool it would be to work in another country, on another continent. And California was always your dream destination, Silicon Valley particularly. Remember?”

“Of course, I remember,” Louis admitted. “And yes, it was my dream.”

“See.” Harry spread his hands out to the sides in front of his body ”That’s why I couldn’t watch you give it up just because I couldn’t be part of it.”

Louis jumped up from where he was sat on the sofa and began pacing back and forth around the living room, “What the fuck are you talking about? I didn’t understand it then, and I don’t understand it now either.”

“I didn’t want you to end up resenting me because you had to give up on your aspirations because I couldn’t come with you,” Harry tried to explain.

“Did it ever occur to you I didn’t want to go by myself?”

“But you did.”

“Eventually, yes. Because you forced me to. You left me, just like that.” Louis clapped his palms together loudly. “You pushed me away. You didn’t speak to me anymore. Every time I tried talking to you, you found an excuse to leave the room. I finally realised you must have broken up with me because you didn’t want to be with me anymore, and it was the perfect ‘out’ for you — you simply stopped loving me,” Louis said with a tremble in his voice.

“No!” Harry jumped up from the sofa with a terrified expression moulded to his face. “Please, never say that. I loved you more than anything and that’s why I wanted you to be free to follow your dream.”

“ _You_ were my dream,” Louis yelled, frustration filling his voice. “You _are_ my dream,” he whispered desperately.

“You’re mine, too,” Harry admitted so easily it surprised himself too.

“But you hurt me so fucking bad, Harry.”

“I realise that now, Lou,” Harry sighed, staring at the stain on the wall before turning back to face his ex again. “The whole time I thought I was doing the right thing. I felt I was doing the noble thing when I sacrificed myself so you could advance your career. I feel so bloody stupid now,” Harry laughed bitterly. “That time before you moved out, and you said I pushed you away, I had to. If I had let you talk to me, I would have broken down on the floor and begged you to stay. I had to keep my distance to prevent myself from acting like a fool.”

“You would have just needed to say the word, and I would have stayed,” Louis told, giving a doleful half-smile.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Or we could have tried to find another solution.” Louis raised his hand. “And before you go into that it’s your dream bullshit, let me speak first.”

Harry nodded, leaning his back against the wall.

“I wanted to go,” Louis admitted readily. “Of course, I did. It was a fantastic opportunity for me.”

“I know.”

“That’s why I told you about it.”

“I had — have a flower shop here. Mum, Gemma, Aubrey. You know I couldn’t leave them.”

“I know that too. That’s why I talked to the director too. I told her about your situation,” Louis paused, looking at Harry.

“What?” Harry shouted, leaning forward.

“I said I would most likely have to turn it down because of family reasons,” Louis shrugged nonchalantly.

“No…” Harry shook his head in disbelief.

“Yes,” Louis assured him. “She offered me a shorter contract.”

“How long?” 

“For a year. They would have flown you there too a few times if you had wanted to visit.”

“A year?” Harry blinked his eyes, then continued whispering. “We could have lived a year apart. I mean it would have been hard but—“ Harry burst into tears. 

Louis pressed his hands to his face as he muttered aloud, “Fuck I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Yes, you should,” Harry sniffed, wiping off the moisture from his cheek. “Just to show me how stupid I’ve been.” 

“I should have told you back then too.” 

“And I should have let you,” Harry whispered hopelessly. “But I was so focused on keeping myself from falling apart in front of you I couldn’t do, or see anything else.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Louis stated, grimacing.

Harry looked up full of hope and desperation, “Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

“Why do you think there’s anything to forgive?” Louis asked softly.

“I broke up with you. I didn’t listen when you—” 

“I think we are both guilty of that, no?” Louis tilted his head.

“S’pose so,” Harry muttered, suspicion still audible in his voice.

“But there’s one thing—” Louis began as he strode with confidence towards Harry and stopped at his feet.

Harry looked up and squealed “I knew it!” before Louis placed his finger on Harry’s lips, effectively quieting him.

“We’re both equally guilty.”

“Wha—?” Harry mumbled behind the finger.

“We didn’t communicate,” Louis spoke. “How did that even happen? That was always something we were good at. We always talked until — nothing,” Louis stopped himself, knowing where the sentence was going.

Harry grabbed Louis' hand and pushed his finger off from his mouth. Still gripping onto his hand Harry said, “I was scared, terrified.”

“Of what?” 

“Losing you, Lou,” Harry peered him timidly.

“You would have never lost me by talking about your feelings, Harry.” 

“But I lost you when I didn't.” 

“We’re talking now…” Louis said, staring down at their intertwined hands.

“We are.” Harry squeezed his hand, heart bouncing wildly in his chest. 

“Do you think—” Louis shifted closer.

Harry couldn’t breathe. All he could think of was if Louis would tilt his head back, his lips would automatically graze Harry’s. “We could—” Louis continued without finishing his sentence this time either.

“Could what, Lou?” Harry groaned frustrated.

“...Maybe try…” Louis lifted his head. He was so close Harry could feel his damp breath against his lips, and oh god— Harry just wanted to kiss him so badly.

“Try what...?” Harry whispered, cupping Louis’ face with his hands.

“Be us again, somed—” Harry didn’t even finish his sentence before he pressed their lips together. 

They tumbled backwards onto the sofa, snogging and groping for what felt like an eternity. They explored each other with the fervor and lust that had been hiding in the hollows of their hearts for the better part of four years. 

Harry squirmed around on the sofa from a combination of being horny and frustrated with the position of the throw pillows and a crooked neck from being wedged up against the armrest, so he stood up, pulling Louis along with him until he was able to hoist Louis up and wrap his legs around his own hips and headed upstairs, determined to finish what they started. 

During their ascension, they began laughing at Harry’s tragic coordination, thus knocking into picture frames they had strategically hung together seven years ago and as a result, they nearly tumbled down the stairs.

“For the love of God Harry, if we fall and brain ourselves at the bottom of the stairs…” Harry abruptly shut him up with a searing kiss and ended it with a bite to Louis’ bottom lip. “Bloody hell, hurry up,” Louis ordered.

When they reach their destination, Harry dropped him on the bed and wasted no time clumsily tearing off his clothes, just like old times. He reached into his bedside table and procured a few condoms and a barely used bottle of lube and dropped them both near the headboard.

“Fuck me I’ve missed this,” Harry said to no one in particular as he licked a stripe up from the base of Louis’ hard cock to the tip, sucking up the drop of come that had blurted out from the head. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Harry,” Louis whined as Harry picked up his ministrations and sunk farther down his cock until he could feel his chin brush against the trimmed hair on his balls. Harry could feel the little pulses from Louis’ cock on his tongue and pulled off quickly. “What’d you do that for?” Louis gasped with desperation laced in his voice as he raised himself up slightly, resting on his elbows to glare at Harry between his bent knees.

“Mmm… You’re not coming from my mouth Lou, not this time anyway,” Harry cockily replied as Louis threw his head back onto the pillow and thrusted up in the air frantically in search of more wet heat or friction from Harry's naked torso.

Harry crawled up the bed to where Louis was splayed out and ushered him up to lean against the headboard. He sat himself in front of Louis with his legs in a v shape before grabbing Louis’ hips and pulling him up onto his lap. Louis rested on his shins as he raised himself up to crash their lips and tongues together and began rocking his dick into Harry’s tummy.

“I’m clean,” Louis moaned into his mouth, no further explanation of how long it's been since he’s last done this.

“Me too, Lou,” Harry confessed back into his lips. 

Harry patted his hand around the bed feeling around for the lube, he wasn’t going to take his eyes off Louis for even one second, should this all be a fever dream or symptoms of a concussion had they actually fallen down the stairs in a heap of limbs and blacked out.

He found what he was looking for, pumped out a generous amount of lube, and slicked himself up before fingering Louis open slowly, neither of them unlocking their eyes from one another, except for when Louis rolled his eyes in the back of his head from the feeling of Harry’s three fingers pumping deeply and deftly into his arse. 

Harry decided Louis was ready from the way he rode his fingers with a quickened pace. He pulled his fingers out and before Louis could whine (like he normally did) he replaced them with the head of his cock. Louis sank down steadily on it as if muscle memory had taken over and it knew how much it needed to stretch before being fully seated. 

They paused to read each other’s expressions and smiled at each other before Louis began lifting himself up and lowering back down on Harry’s cock at a snail's pace. They both moaned and muttered “fuck” at the same time. As if he didn’t want to be detached from any part of Louis, Harry placed his hands on Louis’ hips and brought him against his chest and secured their lips together once again, still keeping their eyes glued to one another. 

What started as tender and slow quickly morphed into frantic and furious. Harry couldn’t tell what was propelling Louis up and down, it was a blend of his hands gripped tightly around Louis’ hips and Louis’ hips pistoning up and down and grinding all around to seek out his prostate as he panted in Harry’s mouth. 

“I’m so fucking close, Haz,” Louis gritted out between clenched teeth. Harry took this as a sign to grab Louis’ cock and jack him off using the precome that began steadily leaking out from the tip. Louis threw his head back in bliss, bleating loudly as he came all over Harry’s hand and both their stomachs. He didn’t waste time refocusing the pleasure back onto Harry as he pushed Harry backwards and straddled the tip of his cock, holding himself up on all fours as Harry proceeded to thrust up into Louis’ arse while Louis pushed back so Harry could rock into him hard and deep and keep from slipping out while he chased his orgasm.

Letting the moment seize him, he didn’t pull out, he latched onto Louis’ hips and ground the base of his cock in circles, blurting come deep inside Louis’ arse and staring wildly into Louis’ blown out blue eyes. 

The only audible sound in the room at this point is the heaving of their breaths as they try to come down from their highest of highs.

After a few minutes, once their breathing was steady and he felt he could form words again, Harry asked, ”Why did you come back?” as he rested his head on the downy hair on Louis’ chest. ”I mean, I'm beyond happy you did but curious to know what made you return to London?”

”I had just finished one massive project, when they were already telling me about the next one,” Louis explained, his hand trailing through Harry’s hair. ”Next thing I knew I told them I’m planning to go back to London.”

”And they let you?” Harry questioned, lifting his head slightest.

”You think they could have forced me to stay there?” Louis gave a laugh, adding. ”Palo Alto isn’t a prison, Harry.”

”No, I know that. But they could have fired you.”

”Yeah, that was always a possibility,” Louis admitted, nodding.

”They didn’t, did they?” Harry turned to look him eyes wide. The thought just popped into his mind.

”No,” Louis shook his head, smiling mysteriously. ”But maybe they were a wee bit smitten with my explanation.”

Harry rolled over, now facing Louis, elbow propped on the mattress. ”What explanation?”

”When I said I needed to go back to London to get the love of my life back…” Louis told, humming.

”You didn’t...”

”I bloody well did,” Louis grinned mischievously, taking out his phone he snapped a photo of astonished looking Harry. ”You look cute,” he said, turning this phone’s display screen to show Harry.

”Umm…”

”That’s your response to my photographic opus?” Louis sighed, tapping his phone for a moment. ”Posted. Now, could you follow me back on Instagram?”

”You knew I unfollowed you?” Harry winced, burying his face on Louis’ belly.

”Of course, I knew,” Louis rolled his eyes. ”I saw it immediately.”

”Oh, how?”

”What do you think?” Louis huffed, putting down his phone. 

”You were stalking me?” 

”I didn’t stalk you,” Louis impetuously denied. ”I just checked in to see what you were doing. Then I just didn’t see your follow anymore.” 

”Sorry,” Harry apologized, biting his lip.

”Don’t. It’s in the past now.”

Harry fumbled around for his own phone from the table and opened his Instagram app. ”Okay, followed. Happy now?”

”Not really.” 

Harry asked, frowning. ”Why?”

”Cos I’m sitting here waiting for a kiss while you’re scrolling your phone,” Louis pouted, grinning. “That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?”

”Hey…” Harry tossed his phone back on the bedside table. He crawled closer to Louis, spun him around so he was laying on top of Harry. With a massive grin spread across his face, he ordered, ”Now, kiss me you fool.”

桜

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome. But when leaving constructive feedback, please, choose your words kindly.
> 
> Here is also a Tumblr [post](https://mizzhydes.tumblr.com/post/635135702718349312/sakura-sunset) you to reblog, if it is something you would consider to do. 
> 
> If you have something to ask, or just want to say hi, you can always contact me.
> 
> Tumblr [mizzhydes](http://mizzhydes.tumblr.com)  
> Twitter @MsHydeStylinson


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